Three's Up by Paul Saunders (the beginning after the end read novel .txt) 📖

Three's Up

First.
Cupid's Arrow

6

Second.
The Morning After The Night Before

20

Third.
George's Plight

35

Cupid's Arrow

“Christ, I’m so sorry Casey, he’s never usually like this. I can’t understand what’s gotten into him. Jezzer, come away!"

Amanda frantically tried to pry Jezzer off of Casey’s leg, it was no use. A juggernaut wouldn’t be able to pull the pitbull in the opposite direction at this moment in time. The creature panted and salivated as it bucked and ground at calf level, hooking its claws into Casey’s denim to gain purchase. The other party guests looked on in horror and amazement as the dog’s intensity crescendoed…and then, it was over.

The dog dismounted and casually sniffed Casey’s shoes, his anatomy still unsheathed. He turned to face the astonished guests and froze, with one limp paw hanging in mid-air. It was only the distant rush of bubbles bursting in the cheap champagne that broke the hundredweight silence. No one dared to so much as draw a breath.


Jezzer wagged his stumpy tail and took a step towards his attentive audience, who, out of fear of being next in the queue, launched themselves onto each other’s laps, sending drinks flying. Jezzer stopped once more, tilted his head in calculation, and then turned and left the room.

A gentle breeze swam through the air as a dozen chests relaxed, only to be replaced once more by the all-consuming silence and an atmosphere so thick, you could dig it with a spoon. All eyes hit different corners of the room with the embarrassment of finding themselves on each other’s laps. Their respective stares navigated their ways along ceilings, down walls, across carpets and met at Casey’s jeans. It looked as though a herd of rather large snails had stampeded down the length of his shin.

“I - err - I’ll get you a cloth.”

Amanda didn’t so much as break the silence, just dispersed it momentarily, only for it to regroup as she left the room. Casey’s head hung mournfully. He could feel the intensity of their accumulated stares burning him as he stood exposed and violated before the room.

Out of all the eyes, only two of them mattered. Sarah Harding’s.

For Casey, tonight held so much promise. Tonight was going to be the night that Sarah not only discovered that Casey existed, but that she was inconsolably in love with him as he was she. Instead, the best-laid plans of mice and men were running down the inside of his shoe. She knew he existed now, all right. It’s hard to forget someone who was publicly raped by a family pet.

“Castration.” A woman finally shattered the oppressive silence, “That’d calm ‘im down.”

“Calm ‘im down?” Replied another guest, “By lopping his balls off? Who’d be calmed down by that? To be honest, I’d be decisively uncalm

. I’d be running up the walls and biting vicars until they sewed the bastards back on!”


And so the hubbub of the party grew once more, and the world moved on. All except for Sarah, who remained planted to the spot holding an expression taut with horror and disgust. Casey knew his best chance was spent, he just hoped that Jezzer was too.

***

Skipping back to that morning, Casey’s bus squirmed along with the rush hour traffic. Its industrial engine shook his take-away coffee violently as he leant against the back of the driver’s booth.

“I don’t know what it is,” conceded Casey, “Something just happens whenever I see her.”

“What, in the trouser department? Don’t tell me you never had the talk

Casey. An erection is a perfectly normal thing, although it can be an inconvenience at times…”

“Not like that Jason.”

“…come to think of it, it does all kind of look like it’s just been stuck on as an afterthought.” Jason, the bus driver, spent about as much time looking underneath his own toenails as he did at the road, “Like, God made Adam and Eve and said, ‘I can’t be doing this two billion more times. Bollocks to it, they can do it ‘emselves.’”

“I’m being serious.”

“He must’ve been in a rush an’ all. Them girls’ bits are about as well thought out as a holiday in Baghdad. I mean, you’d have less hassle wiring a satellite than making sense of all that.”

“Have you finished?”

Casey nervously checked over his shoulder as he noticed the old ladies in earshot fiddling with their hearing-aids and starting to fidget.

“I can see why God tucked it all away though. I mean, if I’d created something that

ugly, I wouldn’t flaunt it about the place. Did he have, like, an abundance of elf ears and think ‘oh well, these’ll have to do?’”

Jason looked out of his driver’s window thoughtfully, pondering his own creation theory. If there were an artist’s impression of his thought pattern, it’d scarily resemble a demolition derby. Casey knew Jason well enough to seize the silence.

“Look, I don’t know what it is but whenever I see her, it’s like my blood turns to acid and burns the inside of my veins. It feels like I’m allergic to my own body and I want to leap out of myself. Some people call it obsession, some people call it infatuation...”

“That one person called the police when you stood outside her house all night.”

The old lady in the seat directly behind them cleared her throat; Casey spoke into her disapproving eyes.

“It wasn’t all night.” Sensing the growing attention creeping his way, he leant into Jason and lowered his voice, “What I’m trying to say is that I know it’s love. I am completely and utterly in love with Sarah Harding. The problem is, she doesn’t even know I’m alive.”

“She must know you exist mate, what about all those chocolates and roses you’ve been sending her over the last three years?”

“Well, I’ve got to work with her y’see. I mean, what if she weren’t interested? I’d have to find a new job, wouldn’t I?”

“You sent them anonymously, didn’t you?”

Casey scratched the back of his head, his silence was reply enough. He scanned the bus, catching the other passengers’ gazes before they managed to snap their heads back downwards, feigning ignorance. He swore he heard, “idiot” from somewhere toward the back. He spoke to the bus as a whole.

“I hoped she’d do the maths.”

“That’s not maths, Casey. That’s some weird, psychic, I-speak-to-dead-people ability.”


Casey took a long swig of coffee; the polystyrene cup covered his blushing cheeks. An old man, two rows from the front leant forward and spoke in an extremely public whisper.

“Psssst. Lad. Have you tried Rohypnol?”

He gave Casey a knowing wink, as if to share the conspiracy. The women in close proximity to the old man suddenly didn’t want to be.

“Rohypnol? You mean date rape? Yeah, why don’t I just whack her ‘round the back of the head with a frying pan and cart her off over my shoulder?”

The old man shrugged his shoulders and turned, noticing the murderous looks being shot his way. An old lady leant forward and tapped Casey’s waist.

“D’you have a frying pan, love?”

“I’m not whacking her ‘round the head and carting her off over my shoulder! Now will you all, please, just mind your own business?”

The bus was swallowed by an awkward silence, for about five seconds anyway, before Jason piped up.

“’t’s not a bad idea, mate. Drugging her, I mean.” An army of tuts marched toward the front of the bus; Jason wasn’t one to rely on people’s approval. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking about anything that would knock her out. Just something that would, you know, warm her to you a bit.”

“And where am I going to find that?”

“Craig the Crooked Chemist? He’d knock you something up. Remember those special painkillers he made for my Mum’s arthritis?”

“What, you mean the ones that paralysed her for three days, and had her talking in tongues? Yeah, I remember, although it’s not really the angle I’m trying for.”

“Suit yourself.” Jason sounded disappointed, “All I’m saying is that it’s been three years, right? Well, if you don’t do anything about it, it’s going to be another three years. If you had the minerals to win her outright, it would’ve happened ages ago.”

This received murmurs of approval from Jason’s passengers. The bus finally pulled into the depot and people started to collect their belongings and queue to disembark. The women sat around the Rohypnol man stayed seated, watching him with convictive eyes, all except for one, who leapt up and planted a knee bluntly between his legs.

Casey thought he was the last passenger and went to step off the bus. A slender, yet empowering hand relaxed on his shoulder and a voice like silk and daggers all at once appeared at his ear in a thick West Indies accent.

“Tell me boy, you love this woman true?”

Casey and Jason jumped as she spoke, neither of them noticed her before now. Casey turned and was almost sucked onto tiptoes by the woman’s absorbingly dark eyes.

“I…who are you?”

“Do you love her mind, body and soul?”


“Yeah, with emphasis on the body

.” Jason had a way of spoiling moments as he mimicked breasts with his hands. “’ere I don’t remember selling you a ticket…”

“Yes, I do love her.”

Casey interrupted his friend, something screamed inside of him not to let this moment pass by. The mysterious woman reached into an exotic purse, her hand reappeared holding a small translucent phial, containing a glowing green liquid.

“Take this, boy. Two drops into the drink of the woman you love and she will be yours for all of this life. But be warned, it cannot be undone.”

“What is it?”

Casey twirled the bottle in the light; the liquid glistened like a million tiny crystals. Jason leant over his shoulder, reaching out in an attempt to look with his hands.


“Call it Cupid’s Arrow if you will, but be sure it is you who gives her the potion, otherwise it will be they who own her heart.”

The mysterious woman placed a hand on Casey’s cheek momentarily, before turning and exiting the bus. Never one to miss a trick, Jason jumped the three steps and ran out after her.

“’ere, love. I don’t suppose you’ve got any, like, super-strength viagra in there, have you?”

Casey stood for a moment, rooted to the spot, completely hypnotised by his own destiny, which sat in his palm.

***

With a trembling hand, Casey covertly removed the miniature bottle from his jeans. He removed the bung and allowed two drops to spill into the red wine, and then two more for good measure. He drew a nerve-steadying breath and took up in his clammy hand, the rest of his life.

He trafficked the spiked drink to the lounge; Sarah beamed the smile that Casey had dreamt about for the last three years. She raised an arm to accept the drink…

A tennis ball bounced playfully into the core of the party, followed by